


Sign Language

by zzoaozz



Category: G.I. Joe - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-09 19:22:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/777106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zzoaozz/pseuds/zzoaozz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Duke struggles with his emotions after the Baroness leaves to rejoin Cobra.  He finds himself turning to Snake Eyes for support and comfort.  He begins to learn sign language to open the lines of communication even farther.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Take A Fall

“Did you take a fall so I would stop attacking?” Duke was not shouting, instead his voice was low, genuinely angry. It was not really Snake Eyes' fault, but he happened to be right here in front of him and Anna was out of his reach, back in the hands of Cobra but this time by her own choosing. His eyes narrowed even further. “I haven't laid a fucking hand on you in training since then, in fact no one has. Did you do that on purpose, asshole. Do you think I can't take you on my own? Do you think I was wasting your precious time? Did you think it was frigging funny, a joke at my expense? Talk to me or use sign language or some fucking something, I am sick of this silent, mystical bullshit!”

He was up in the ninja's face now fists balled up in the straps that secured his sword and the rest of his arsenal to the black costume he wore. They were alone. They had just returned from a mission as the others had been deployed. The general had felt confident in leaving the two of them to defend the temporary base camp. No one was there to see him lose control and vent on his teammate and no one would see him if he lost it completely and threw a punch, no one but the man he was abusing unjustly. 

He blinked hard and growled an almost animal sound of hurt and anger. He had returned to find a letter waiting for him. It was addressed from his father who had been dead for six or seven years. Inside was a letter from her saying that she planned on helping her brother, that she loved him, that she did not give a damn about him or his values and that she would do everything in her power to defeat GI Joe. He had turned it over to the general numb inside as the last hope that she would be alright, that THEY would be alright died.

He brought his head up with a jerk as a bare hand brushed his cheek as lightly as a ghost, brushing away a tear he only just realized was there. “Fuck you, leave me alone.” The anger was gone from his voice that fast, now it was lifeless the words too heavy to be raised. “Leave me alone.” 

The hand touched him again, touching his chin with a single finger drawing his attention down then moving slowly, patiently pointing first at him, then at his fists gripping the straps so tightly they were raising welts on his hands. 

“I'm holding you.” 

Snake's hand closed in a loose fist then turned so the back was level and the thumb out and curled close then moved deliberately up and down in what was almost a knocking motion. Then it touched his chin again making him look up to see him nod his head. 

“Yes, huh?” He drew a shaky breath, “so that means you do speak sign language.” He looked down at the fist and it signed yes again.

“How do you say, I'm sorry?” 

His hand rose again in a fist and pressed against his chest over the area of his heart making small circles. He pointed at his own chest then signed again. There was something more sincere in that gesture than anything anyone had said to him since the news that she had escaped and taken both Cobra Commander and Destro with her. His chest squeezed tight. 

“Yeah that's exactly how I feel.” He forced his hands to let go of Snake Eyes and brought his fist up to his heart mimicking the gesture. It hurt. It hurt so damn much. “Forgive me, please.” He was asking Snake Eyes but he knew the one he needed forgiveness from was not here. 

Pale hands moved without hesitation the left spread palm up and the right making a wiping motion as if washing the matter away. 

“You forgive me?” 

Snake nodded then touched Duke's chest over his heart, made the forgiving sign again then touched him again the same way.

“I need to forgive myself? I don't think that's going to happen.” 

Snake pointed at him, raised his fist with one finger crooked up and brought it down abruptly twice, raised his hand to cup his ear, then touched his chest. 

Duke puzzled at the gesture a moment, something like a mother shaking her finger under your nose telling you you need to do something, that was it, need. “I need to listen to you?” 

He shook his head, repeated the motions a little faster tilting his head in what Duke had learned was a questioning manner. 

He thought about it, anything to take his mind off her. Then he smiled, “got it! If I need someone to talk to, you'll listen.” The confirming nod was gratifying. “You know I wouldn't mind learning more sign language. Snake nodded once more. “And thank you, for the offer and for being here when I needed to rage.” 

He nodded once and slipped easily past Duke. 

“Wait, you didn't tell me if you took a fall on purpose.” The only reply he got to that was a shrug.


	2. Ghosts in Borrowed Sheets

He gritted his teeth on the rubber bit and punched hard into the bag keeping his arms level with his shoulder economy of motion equaled increased power at less cost. Right, left, right, his fists drove into the punching bag in a mechanically steady rain of blows. Sweat poured down his face, soaked through his shirt and shorts, even his socks. The muscles in his back and shoulders were screaming, his abs ached. He was way past the point of pain and wondering when the cramps would hit. His fists were numb inside the gloves, his forearms were almost there. His breathing was heavy panting, grunts of air dragged in and spat out resentfully in time to the relentless pounding of his fists. 

A few people had tried to talk to him. Ripcord had been there the longest, he did not remember much of what he had said. He had to train, to build endurance, to be better, do better. He had failed to save Anna. He had failed to destroy Cobra when he had the chance, and now they were back and the regular army had lost sixteen good men before Joe arrived. Just like his own team, they had done their best and just been outgunned and out-manned. Heart and courage meant a lot but just could not stop laser pulse fire or advanced robotic drones or mindless soldiers hopped up on nanomites. He had studied that report, memorized their names: Adams, Cornwald, Cash, Dean, Folley, Johnson, A., Johnson, S., Jurgen, Leib, Marquez, Mitchell, Raqueel, Simmons, Takahashi, Walters, and Yost. He would make Cobra pay for each one of them along with all the others. He had not realized he was growling until Scarlett pointed it out just before she left. 

It had been quiet now for a long time and it was getting dark in the gymnasium. He realized the timers had kicked the training area over to night lighting. He had two days off so technically he was free to use the facilities anytime they were not being used for official business. The guards had checked the roster and left him alone. His friends had given up on tearing him away from his obsessive workout. No one had reported it to the general apparently or he would be in the psychiatrist's office already. He threw one last punch and let his arms drop. He looked for a long time at the bag cataloging the lines of stitching on the seams the spots worn shiny by fists and feet, the permanent indentations from repeated abuse like he had given it tonight. There were also stains on it, sweat stains and some darker looking, blood from the bare knuckle fighters most likely. 

He shivered as the air kicked on and chilled his sweat soaked body. A soft cotton robe dropped onto his shoulders from behind him. He was too tired to jump, the best he could manage was a startled grunt. The robe was warm as if it had been on a vent or on another person. He undid the gloves with his teeth and let them drop heavily to the floor before sliding his arms painfully into the loose, wide sleeves. They were black. He had seen this robe before. It had a hood that could be pulled up to cast a masked face into shadow. It had plenty of space inside, and plenty of material to hide a sword or weapon or several. He took a long ragged breath. He could smell Snake Eyes on it. His deodorant, his shampoo and soap, the faint smell of the incense he burned sometimes in his room, exotic, spicy, a little dangerous. He pulled it closely around him and turned to thank him, but there was no one there. He was alone in the shadowy room. 

He pulled the hood up and walked quietly through the hallways feeling like a shadow himself or maybe a ghost whispering along invisible to all. Well, apparently to all but the other specters who tended to creep along silently in the shadows. He smiled, he must make a pretty pathetic ghost if another had to offer him his sheet. He laughed at that thought, just a little one, but somehow it helped all out of proportion to its size. 

It was well after midnight when he stood in front of the commando's door holding the washed and neatly folded robe up against his chest almost like a shield. He had not realized how late it was until he reached the door. He had just decided to leave and come back in the morning when the door opened. He could see nothing in the darkness but felt Snake's presence none the less. 

“I didn't realize how late it was, brought this back to you.” The door opened wider and the shadow in it stepped back. It looked like an invitation and he took it slipping inside and thinking once more of ghosts. 

The door shut once he was inside and he felt more than heard Snake Eyes move across the floor. There was the scratch of a match being struck and the room was filled with a soft red light from a paper lantern sitting on a small dark table. It was warm and soothing in a way florescent could never achieve. He sighed softly hugging the robe to him for a moment before he recalled that he was a guest in someone else's room. He looked around quickly and saw his team mate plugging in a small electric kettle. 

He was wearing black pants, not sweats but something loose and silky looking. His bare back was turned to him and it might have been a road map, scars over sinewy muscles. He was lean, too lean, his vertebrae and ribs were clearly visible even in the low light. His hair looked soft and almost unkempt the way it lay loosely at the back of his neck and hung down over the sides of his face as he spooned tea into an actual tea-set. His hand moved with practiced ease as he poured the hot water in over the leaves and put the lid on. He fished two ceramic mugs from a cupboard and set them on the lacquered tray with the kettle. 

Duke found himself mesmerized as he lifted the tray and turned to face him. His face was uncovered for the first time since Duke had met him but the shadows and his shaggy hair kept him from seeing anything distinctly. He suddenly wished the lights were on, that he could see the mysterious features of the silent Joe, but he knew with absolute certainty that if they were, he would not be permitted to see even this much. 

“You didn't need to go to any trouble for me.” He felt guilty, surely the other man would rather be sleeping. 

Snake Eyes placed the tray on the small table in front of the lantern and sat down gracefully on the floor beside it. He gestured to the floor opposite him and Duke moved wordlessly there sinking down onto what proved to be a cushioned mat of some kind. He sat Indian style and watched those pale hands pour the tea. The mug was warm in his hands as he took it, the smell sweet and clean. He closed his eyes. He should thank his host, but words would only spoil this peace. He had not realized how much he needed to find a quiet place. He could just stay here in this one moment forever, fade away into the shadows, forget the world outside. 

His eyes opened reluctantly. He was not sure how long he had been sitting there like that with his eyes closed and breathing in the steam off the the cup, but it was cool enough to drink and Snake had already finished his and was sitting there with his hands folded in his lap as still as a statue watching him. His hair had fallen back a little and the dim light picked out golden and red highlights in his hair. 

“Am I going crazy?” He whispered. 

Snake Eyes shook his head without hesitation. Then he spelled out a word with his right hand, raising it into the light to let him read it. He had been studying sign language just as intensely as he had been training, but it was hard, languages did not come easily to him at the best of times and that was what it was, a whole other language. “S,” he translated aloud “ h, o, c, k, shock, you think I am in shock?” 

A nod. 

He closed his eyes again as he set down his tea cup holding on to the handle. They opened as he felt Snake's hand cover his as he refilled the cup. His hand was shockingly hot. He had not been able to get warm in days except when he was standing under a scalding shower. 

“You're so hot,” he muttered. Then he shook his head, “your hand I mean, I can't seem to shake this chill. The air must be cranked way down. It's warmer here than in my room. He squinted at the moving hands. “I'm not alone here? No I guess I'm not. Is that it?” It made so much sense right then, in the wee hours of the morning with his stomach full of some kind of warm herbal tea and the soft exotic light. In the morning he might not know anything more than he knew earlier in the gym, but right here, right now, he could see that he had been wandering in a fog looking for something that just was not there. Answers when the questions did not even exist, forgiveness when no one held a grudge against him. The coldness was inside of him and all he had to do to get warm was open up and let it out. 

“Thank you, Snake.” He caught the hand resting on his and brought it up to his face kissing it gently on the knuckles. It seemed as natural as breathing in this dream like setting. It seemed to hesitate a moment as he released it before settling quietly back down into the Ninja's lap. “Why do ghosts stay? Is it because they can't let go of the things they left behind or is it because the things they left behind can't let them go?”

Pale hands moved fluidly in the warm pocket of light. A finger pointed at him then moved to his face and slashed downward, then both hands rose level and flipped up and down. 

“I don't know the last one,” he confessed. “I'm not something.” Letters again, those he knew. “Dead, I'm not dead.” He copied the last sign trying to memorize it. It seemed easier when snake showed him one than the video lessons he was doing on the web. They made more sense. It was like the opening and closing of two coffin lids. He smiled, “I'm not dead so I can't be a ghost, huh? You know as well as I do there are a lot more of us living ghosts than there are dead ones.” 

The dark face across from him lifted and the dim light slid along his cheek for an instant picking out a complex pattern before allowing the shadows to swallow him once more. He blinked, rumor had it that the ninja was hiding horrible scars under his mask, one of the rumors anyway, there were too many to count. He closed his eyes suddenly fighting back the tears that he had refused to shed. He drew a long shuddering breath and held it for a long moment. 

He heard no sound of movement at all but between one shaky exhalation and the next ragged inhalation, Snake Eyes was kneeling behind him wrapping him once more in the warm robe he brought back and more than that, in his own strong arms. He leaned back into his teammate as those arms tightened around his chest swaddling him in the robe like a baby in a crib blanket. He turned like a child into the embrace and was gathered against a strong shoulder. One hand came up to cradle the back of his head, the other splayed in the small of his back, solid, supportive. The warmth, the pure animal comfort, the silent acceptance broke through the pain and anger and guilt and reached right into the core of hurt he had been hiding inside since seeing Anna again, since losing his men, since her betrayal. Duke did not cry, it was not in his nature to weep. He just closed his eyes and shuddered in the embrace like a ship under attack straining beneath the barrage of emotions. 

He woke slowly unsure of just where he was. Someone else's bed, the scent on the pillow was masculine and familiar, Snake Eyes' scent. He sat up slowly wincing as his head protested the movement. He fumbled at the bedside until he found a small clock. It was nearly noon. He groaned and ran a hand through his short spiky hair. The floor was cold on his bare feet as he staggered up. Someone, Snake since no one else had been here, had undressed him down to his boxers and folded his clothes into a neat pile on the footlocker at the bottom of the bed. 

Once he was back in his own quarters he took a long shower finding that the calmness he had found last night was still with him. He was warm and he was alive and he could not undo what was already done. He would have to live with his scars just like the ninja. Snake hid his away, out of sight and out of mind, and did what needed doing. He was as strong, he could do the same.

If they had been a good team before, they were pretty close to the best now and improving all the time. He was gaining experience in reading sign language and more than that the body language of the commando. They had an uncanny ability to read each other that the enemy could not begin to duplicate. Duke discovered he was a natural leader, bringing the best out of an already elite force. He also found that Snake knew more about most of them than they knew themselves. His subtle warnings had kept him from stepping over lines and on toes many times. He could also rely on the ninja's instincts about people outside their group. He was never wrong about who was trustworthy, who was a liar, or who was on the edge ready to go over. Without ever thinking about it, Duke had moved Snake into the position of his most trusted adviser, his second in command. They were a natural team. Flint, Hawk, and Stone had recognized it as well and they were too good at their own command jobs not to use a weapon to its fullest extent. So their missions grew more and more dangerous and more vital as months turned into years and they found themselves fighting to save mankind from the terror that Cobra and its allies wished to unleash.


	3. Waiting For a Pick Up

He sighed as he dropped into a chair. Ripcord did not bother to take the extra steps needed, he just slid down the wall and closed his eyes. Scarlett spared him a concerned look as she slipped past and into a seat. Her skin, always pale, was waxy and her lips pressed tight. 

'They need rest', he signed to the ninja who was sitting in the single window of the room watching the street below for any suspicious behavior.

'We all do,' came the reply, 'and soon.' 

He sighed. “Alright troops, we have twenty six hours to make it to the pick up site and we still know nothing about what Cobra is doing with the drugs they have been seizing. We're running out of time, any ideas?”

“Short of beating the truth out of the pushers?” Ripcord growled.

“They're too scared of Cobra to talk unless we resorted to torturing them.” Scarlett did not add that the general consensus amongst the squad was that torturing known drug lords might not be such a bad thing. 

“We don't need more enemies than we already have,” Doc's voice was calm and certain. “These men may be criminals but it is not our job to harm them, we have more important fish to fry.” 

He rubbed his forehead as the same argument started up again. He caught a hint of movement at the window. Snake's fingers flicked again to draw attention. 

'Valdez knows something. He was not scared.' 

'Are you sure', he signed back? He already knew the answer to that and Snake did not deign to reply. He thought furiously. Valdez had been the biggest independent drug runner outside the cartels. He had the most to lose in that case. The cartels had old money and mafia ties to back them up and put them back in business. Valdez could lose everything. That made him as dangerous as Cobra. 

“The enemy of my enemy...”

All eyes turned toward him as he spoke aloud. “Okay guys, here's the new plan; if it fails we have no choice but to go back empty handed. 

He wondered if he had made the right decision three hours later when he found himself crawling across an exposed beach listening to automatic fire zinging off his enhancement suit. He signaled Ripcord as the shots paused again and they rushed forward pushing the exo-suits to their limits just to gain a few more yards. Valdez's men were far behind them now, their bullet proof vests not nearly protection enough from the robotic gun turrets on the Cobra outpost. From somewhere ahead, there was a dull thump then a whoosh, then the air erupted around them. Debris rained down everywhere and ash reduced vision. A ragged cheer rose behind them as the killer drones fell still.

“Way to go Snake!” Ripcord crowed. A second later, Scarlett's signal, an arrow with a flare attached sailed into the sky. 

“Let's get them, Yo Joe!” 

The battle was fierce and the Cobras fought desperately to protect the base long enough to get the drugs on board their aircraft and out of the area. Then of course, Valdez had turned on them and they ended up fighting on two fronts, but in the end they had what they came for, the hard evidence that Cobra was using the drugs to buy the cooperation of terrorists groups from Afghanistan to Zimbabwe. To top it off, once they broken the code, they also had a map of the Cobra bases involved in moving the drugs. Hits were ordered immediately before Cobra could disappear again. It was a major blow to the enemy, one that would cost them a great deal of time and money to recover.

Unfortunately, with immediate action needed the pickup had to be delayed. Their copter was needed elsewhere more urgently. The vehicles had been taken out at the beginning of the assault and the motor pool area of the Cobra base flattened. They had two choices, spend the night in the rubble that was still burning sporadically or walk back to the village where the remnants of Valdez's forces would no doubt shoot them on sight. Scarlett glared at their satellite map of the area as if she could force it to show better news. 

“The only other place we might reach before night is this little village to the North. It doesn't even have a name on the map, just a short airstrip, a few buildings, and some kind of agriculture going on. There are fields of something green, no idea what.” She traced a path across the paper with a finger that shook slightly.

That made up his mind for him. “Okay, we're going to shelter at that village and if they don't like it, they'll just have to get over it. Radio it in, Breaker. Then everyone move out.” 

The trip through the thick forest was not fun. The trail on the map, easily visible in the satellite shot was nearly impossible to follow from ground level. Only Snake Eye's skills at tracking kept them going in the right direction. He took the lead swinging a machete salvaged from the base with as much skill as he swung a sword. They stopped only twice for short breaks to drink some water and pick at the rations they had brought with them. Everyone was too tired to talk much. It was late evening when they finally broke free of the forest into dazzling sunshine. They found themselves on a dirt path cutting through rows of shrubs. 

“Yerba,” Scarlett informed them, “it's used to make a drink called mate'. It has natural caffeine in it like coffee or tea.” 

“I could use a cup then,” Duke sighed, shifting the weight of his gun to his other shoulder. “So these are farmers then?”

“Probably a commercial plantation. I'm not a botanist but these look like mostly male plants to me.”

“Uh huh... male plants. And you can tell that how?” Ripcord asked skeptically. 

Duke tuned them out as she launched into an explanation of plant physiology. He picked up his pace a little feeling the end of the journey approaching and finding a small reserve of energy in that thought. A shadow passed between him and the sun. He glanced over to see Snake Eyes at his side. His hands signed against his chest where only he would see it. He was right, someone should have seen them by now and reacted to a group of heavily armed strangers. He could see the first building now, a long bungalow of rough wood weathered to a nondescript grey. 

The plants ended and the path emptied out into a large area of packed dirt. Two commercial trucks were parked there. There was no name on the side only a picture of the shrubs and some sort of contraption that looked like a gourd with a thick metal straw sticking out of it. As they passed the trucks and rounded the corner of the largest structure they found themselves facing a more traditional adobe hacienda. Between the house and the long building was a squat stone structure. To the other side was a startlingly modern looking processing plant of gleaming white painted steel. The distinctive beeping of a forklift cut through the heavy air and the front doors swung open. 

“Our missing welcoming committee, it looks like.” Duke stepped forward and waved both arms over his head to draw the attention of the man who was motioning someone else inside to bring the vehicle on out. The person on the machine raised a hand to eyes then pointed at them causing the first man to turn around and look at them at last. He raised a hand in recognition of their presence then hurriedly closed the doors behind his companion and swung up beside him. 

They cut the engine when they reached the exhausted band of soldiers and hopped down. Scarlett stepped forward and translated Duke's explanation of who they were and why they were there into Spanish. The two men listened intently with no sign of hostility. Then the first one they had seen talked to Scarlett at length gesturing occasionally while she listened. 

“His name is Carlos, he and his friend Che own this plantation. Their workers have gone back to their hometowns for a holiday. We are welcome to stay in the bunkhouse for a few days. That's the bathhouse there. She pointed at the squat building. The cook will bring meals out to us. They are simple meals but plentiful and healthy. He asks that we don't smoke or shoot anything.”

“Tell him that's not a problem and that we sincerely appreciate this.”

She dutifully translated and the owner granted them a friendly smile that lit up his dark eyes. Then squeezed his partner on the shoulder as he climbed back into the seat. The engine roared to life and the squad found themselves alone in the thickening shadows. 

“Okay, you heard the man, let's get settled in then check in with HQ.”


	4. Without A Word

Duke slipped out of the narrow bunk trying to make as little noise as possible. He stretched wincing a little at new aches and pains. The moonlight was streaming in through the high narrow windows painting the long room in bars of shadow and light. He walked quietly between the two rows of beds feeling the rough hewn wood under his bare feet. There was a quiet, distant quality to the night, an unreal feeling as if he still dreamed. Deep breathing and low snores blended with the sound of insects and frogs from outside into a peaceful hum. His eyes moved over the bunks taking in the familiar forms of his teammates. Out of habit he counted heads and found himself not too surprised to come up one short. Snake's pack rested against the foot of one bunk, but the bed was still neatly made and obviously untouched. He would find the other man outside if he could find him at all. 

The night air was heavy with humidity and only slightly cooler than it had been during the day. Sweat beaded on his forehead and trickled down his neck even though he wore only his boxers and a tee. He felt a tiny stir of irritation. It was uncomfortable outside but he needed to know where the commando was if he was not in his bed. He could not call out without waking his team who were utterly exhausted and needed the sleep. In his mind, he knew without any doubt that Snake Eyes would come back when he was ready to come back and that if he did not want to be found he would not be found. That knowledge did nothing to assuage the worry that was beginning to gnaw at him. He forced himself to be still, to listen to the night and look with open eyes and open senses, the way that the ninja had taught him to do. Snake would have left him a sign to let him know everything was alright, he just had to look and there it was, an arrow shaped out of small pebbles on top of a brick deliberately placed at the foot of an very large, very old looking tree. 

The arrow pointed past the tree toward a low stone fence. Without hesitation, Duke climbed over it and dropped lightly to the other side. Damp grass tickled his feet and calves as he looked around the moonlit pasture. The only landmark he could see was another tree standing alone on a small rise. He aimed himself in that direction trying to stay as patient as he could and ignore the small cloud of insects he was gathering as he went. The lush foliage of the tree cast its base into deep shadows so he failed to see the silent figure sitting beneath it until he was upon him. 

He wanted to ask what he was doing out here, why he was not sleeping, why he would make him worry; but what he did was drop down silently onto the carpet of fallen leaves beside his friend without saying a word. Snake Eyes was wearing a half mask instead of the full one. He had also changed out of his normal costume into fatigues and a tee shirt, still black, but probably much cooler. They sat in silence for some time just listening to the night. 

Finally, Duke roused himself enough to ask softly if there was any danger. A single hand rose languidly from the other man's side. Two fingers up, the thumb straight out, then the fingers dropped firmly downwards. 

"No? Then why are you out here?"

The hand rose to touch his forehead then twisted away palm out. 

"If you don't know, who does?" he could not help the tone of fond amusement. He should be annoyed at being out in the sultry night feeling his shirt soak through with sweat and his shorts doing the same from the wet litter beneath him but this night was different than most, this place fantastical. Sitting there in the misty, moonlight with the silent warrior, he could almost believe in 'once upon a time'. 

Snake turned his head then to look straight at him for a while but only shrugged then turned his face back to the half moon drifting in and out of the clouds.

Duke took advantage of the moment to study his profile. His hair was a light, brownish blond and just brushed his shoulders. It looked thick and rather wavy. The bangs were long and hung down to his eyes. There was not enough light to be sure of their color. He could see the rough, raised line of a scar starting just below his right eye and disappearing under the mask. 

"You are beautiful." He had not meant to speak aloud but the whisper seemed to linger on the night air. Shadowed eyes turned to him holding him captive. "You are," he whispered again a little defensively. "You don't need a mask, I've seen the real you. The way you look doesn't matter."

A hand closed over his where it lay relaxed on his knee. Long fingers that could kill a man or disarm a bomb, or comfort a grieving heart with their silent voice entwined with his. He held those fingers between his own as if he could keep them from pulling away. He could feel the callouses from sword and blade against his palm. For the second time, he raised it to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss onto it, the back this time instead of the knuckles, nearer the wrist. His lips lingered there a long moment.

He lifted his eyes to find Snake's own still locked on his face and his chest tightened. His head was swimming, his thoughts scattering and chasing like the clouds over the moon above them. A low heat was blossoming in his stomach and rising to tingle like electricity in his extremities. He recoginized the feeling in spite of the long years since he had last felt it. His right hand trembled and sought out the slender one covering his left,, clasping it, holding on to it, seeking the strength and stability that flowed from the man who owned it. His lips burned where they had touched his skin and thirsted for more contact. 

As gracefully as a cat, the dark clad figure rose. He could let go of the hand he held or rise with it. He was not nearly as dextrous but there was something about this night that was changing everything. He moved as lightly as the mist rising from the ground standing and turning until they stood face to face, chest to chest in the welcoming embrace of the shadows. His hand turned palm to palm with Snake's making it impossible to dismiss the gesture as comforting or friendly, they were holding hands in the moonlight on a strangely magical night and they had somehow moved closer without seeming to take a step.

His right hand rose and touched his chest over his heart hesitantly then moved to touch Snake in the same place a question without words, without any need for words.

His hand was released as strong arms wrapped tightly around him pulling him against the taller man. Every sense was hyper aware as their bodies pressed together. He could feel his heat, the hardness of his muscles, the way his heart was racing as fast as his own. He touched the silky material of the mask slipping it down letting his fingers worship the marred flesh beneath it. Nothing else existed except the night and the man he was touching, everything else faded away into mist and shadow. 

Their lips brushed almost fearfully then joined in the lightest of kisses. His hands shook as they moved down from his face to his shoulder then slid over the powerful muscles of his arms. He pushed into the kiss as he wrapped his arms around the broad chest and held him as tightly as he could, tighter than he would ever have dared with any woman. Their mouths grew hungrier, more demanding as the sparks that had been growing steadily between them ignited. 

He made a soft sound of protest when Snake broke the kiss and tilted his head back toward the bungalow. Then he heard it too, the distant sound of helicopter blades. 

"Ours?" he managed to gasp breathlessly assuming that Snake could identify them by the sound. 

Yes, the first sign Snake had taught him. 

He laid his hand on the ninja's chest palm flat over his heart. They stood that way for just a moment, then Snake slipped his mask back up and turned back in the direction of their sleeping team members. He paused a moment to give Duke another one of those intense gazes, then he felt a hand touch his, a single finger questioning. He smiled and took the hand clasping it tightly as they walked back to the others and the approaching pick up.


End file.
